


Be Still My Beating Heart

by knarcelestial



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Unicorns were Hurt in the Making of this Fic, Protective Wade, The Author Regrets Nothing, Thor is MVP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 13:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13436022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knarcelestial/pseuds/knarcelestial
Summary: Of course, Peter recalls, he wouldn’t be here in the first place if it weren’t for Wade’s insistent nagging. The sixth year, as compensation, had promised to take him down to Florean Fortescue's for some ice cream and hinted at stealing down to the Kitchen afterwards to drink some of the Kitchen Elfs’ Double-Fudge Fudgery Nutty Hot Chocolate.Peter couldn’t possibly resist. To which part of the offer, spending the entire evening before the game with Wade or the sweetest delights, Peter would have to set off for another date to analyse.Hogwarts AU





	Be Still My Beating Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Warning:  
> -Mentions (like literally a sentence) of underage drinking!  
> -Harry is the BAD guy in this one, so he deserves a warning of his own  
> -Harry deceives Peter in this one
> 
> Heed the warnings, dear readers! Continue at your own free will. 
> 
> Oh! Also, if you're wondering about who's in which house scroll down to the end notes!

 

 

 

 

***

Peter had tried to get up as far as possible on the bleachers to watch the Slytherin team practice for their game against Hufflepuff house in the evening, but utterly failed to take into account the possibility of bringing warmer clothes to prevent the cold air from blowing into his thin, daytime robes.

  
Of course, Peter recalls, he wouldn’t be here in the first place if it weren’t for Wade’s insistent nagging. The sixth year, as compensation, had promised to take him down to Florean Fortescue's for some ice cream and hinted at stealing down to the Kitchen afterwards to drink some of the Kitchen Elfs’ Double-Fudge Fudgery Nutty Hot Chocolate.

  
Peter couldn’t possibly resist. To which part of the offer, spending the entire evening before the game with Wade or the sweetest delights, Peter would have to set off for another date to analyse.

  
Alas, his current predicament.

  
He’s freezing. He’d run out of Potions class first thing after hearing from Ned that Wade needed him at practice, heading directly over to the Quidditch grounds, foregoing any sort of rational thought that would have prepared him for some outside weather.

  
At least he’d grabbed study materials from the dorm before class. He would’ve been bored out of his mind otherwise. Not that sitting there and watching his best friend fly around on his broom, sweaty, robes clinging to his broad chest wasn’t a delight of its own. But, Peter never really does anything. He sits and waves sometimes. Wade insists he needs him there because he’s his good luck charm, a matter to which Peter must constantly reassure himself that _no_ he’s not blushing and in an attempt to diverge the topic, likes to point out that Wade was fairing just as well on his own before Peter had joined Hogwarts three years ago. Wade can pout all he wants, but there really isn’t anything more to it. _Surely_.

  
Peter uses the free time instead to catch up on some heavy reading anyways, so he doesn’t really mind.

  
His books were a small comfort. The scent of ink and parched paper always brought back warm memories of his Aunt May and her tiny, quaint bookshop in New York. Perhaps that’s where he’d gotten his likings for the heavy curiosity of knowledge. Perfecting his skills in several subjects over the course of his first year alone, Peter rivalled even the smartest of the Ravenclaw House. Fellow Gryffindors always joked about how the Sorting Hat had got it wrong, that Peter didn’t really belong with them.

  
Peter always shrugged them off. It was all for good fun, and he felt right at home with the Brave House and his closest friends.

  
_Goshawk’s Guide to Herbology, Edition IV, Record i.v.x.x._

 

 

>   
>  _The Screechsnap is a magical plant with the ability to move and make noise. It was also a "semi-sentient" plant for having the ability to feel both pain and pleasure. While the Screechsnap is known most prominently for its erratic movements and high-pitched screaming notes, it also prevails in-_

  
“Peter!”

  
Peter glances up from his book, watching as Harry Osborn glides up along the handrail of the watch tower on his broomstick.

  
“You coming to the Quidditch game later tonight?”

  
Peter nods, “Yeah! From what I’m seeing you guys are going to kick butt tonight.”

  
A blinding smile slowly unfolds across the Slytherin boy’s face, “You going to be cheering me on, Petey?”

  
Peter shrugs, “Sure, I’ll be cheering the entire team on, I guess.”

  
Harry chuckles, “Alright, I’ll see you there then.” And then dips forward with his broom, using the momentum to loop around in the air, righting himself before winking back at Peter and heading back off into center field.

“Huh.”

It’s not long before another broom pulls up in front of him, this time a familiar red and black glove reaching out to him to tuck a strand piece of hair behind his ear.

  
“What was that about?” Wade asks, leaping off of his broom onto the wooden sitting area to sit down beside Pete on the bench.  
Peter tries to ignore the fact that Wade’s voice is raspy and sort of out of breath from practice, and manages to get out, “Harry was just asking if I was coming to the game tonight.”

  
There’s a stretch of silence, and Peter can’t really see what’s happening on Wade’s face at the moment because he’s all but shoved his own into his textbook in a brash attempt at hiding the flourishing blush blooming on his face. But then he hears Wade take a breath and then, “Of course you’d be coming to the game. I mean, _I’m_ playing.”

  
Peter huffs, shoving his elbow into Wade’s ribs, satisfied when he hears the older boy wheeze, “You’re such a selfish twat.”

  
Wade laughs, head thrown back and _no_ what are you talking about Peter is not staring at the way sweat is trickling down his long, tan neck. No sir-ry.

  
“Well, who else would you be going to see play?”

  
Peter rolls his eyes, “I have other friends, Wade. Contrary to your beliefs.”

  
Wade gasps, gloved hands running down the entire length of his face, “I’m hurt, Parker. You’re being sociable behind my back?”

  
“You never know, Wilson. I might have more friends than you could possibly imagine.”

  
“I knew I should’ve kept a tighter leash on you.”

  
Peter swallows, and tries not to let his mind wander. And, maybe it’s that that makes him say it, or perhaps a more subconscious desire to provoke Wade when he really, really shouldn’t, but he leans over anyways and says, “Well, I might just be going to see a certain _someone_ play, too.”

  
Wade smiles softly, that little half lift he does with his lips like he’s trying to contain himself. It drives Peter nuts every time, “Oh really? And who might this certain someone be?”

  
Peter smirks, leaning in more than he really should, “Harry.”

  
The smile vanishes from Wade’s face so fast, Peter instantly regrets saying anything at all. He _knows_ that Wade doesn’t like Harry. The other Slytherin one time had convinced Peter to go with him to Hogsmeade on the Winter Break of his second year. It was the only one that Peter couldn’t spend with Wade because the older boy had to go home, and Peter didn’t mind the extra company. Harry asked him if he could kiss him after a wonderful day out together, to which Peter politely declined. It was all rather comfortable, but the entire thing never sat well with Wade.

  
Wade had taken it upon himself to get into fights with the other Slytherin constantly from that point on, pulling at any inkling of a string that could start a quarrel. Peter deeply frowned upon it, telling Wade that he was overreacting. Wade always shrugged him off though, saying that he wouldn’t understand.

  
Even until now, he never did understand why Wade hated the other boy’s guts so much. “Wade, I-”

  
The whistle indicating the end of the short break cut him off. Not daring to look at the older boy, Peter watched in silence as Wade grabbed his broom and swept down into the field without a goodbye.

  
Peter sighed, ignoring his textbooks entirely when he realised he couldn’t focus, and chose instead to watch the team practice for real.

  
Clearly Peter set him off, because more than enough times was Wade missing a bludger heading his way, forgetting sometimes to beat them away from his teammates as well.

  
A deep pit settled in Peter’s stomach when a someone from the ground yelled at Wade to ‘Get his shit together or to pull out of tonight’s game completely’. Waves of guilt rolled through him as Peter watched Wade shake himself off and pull through enough for the rest of practice to fool an unkeen watcher.

  
After the final whistle that indicated the end of practice, Wade flew down to the ground instead of riding on over to Peter like usual. Peter watched with a heavy heart as Wade put his equipment away and rolled out of the supply tent to great Vanessa outside. The seventh year Sllytherin seemed to console Wade with sad eyes about something before pulling him in for a tight hug.

Peter’s will collapsed after he realised that they weren’t going to be letting go of each other any time soon.

  
Peter knew how Wade looked. He saw how the other students looked at the older boy when Peter and him walked in the halls. He also knew how Wade wasn’t afraid to put himself out there and make friends; something that frequently initiated arguments between the two of them. Wade had tons of close friends. Peter, on the other hand, had Wade and only a handful of other people that he could confide in. Peter never really minded though. He always admired that aspect of Wade, how he could easily interact with people, even use his charms to lull the most unsociable of people out of their shells and into easy conversations.

  
But, then there were times like this where a deep sense of insecurity blooms throughout Peter’s chest and greens his heart. Vanessa was a close friend of Wade’s. Their families were close knit, and so she’d known him growing up even before Wade had joined the school. It always served as a hard spot to glance over how intimate they were with one another, the little inside jokes, casual arm throwing around shoulders, and sharing things.

  
That’s not to say Peter and Wade don’t do these things, too. There’s just something about Vanessa that Peter can’t quite understand about himself.

  
Peter glances away, pulling his books together to put them in his satchel when Harry pulls up beside him again. This time he’s in his casual robes, “Need some help, Pete?”

  
Peter doesn’t even glance up, mind clouded with thoughts about Wade, “Sure, Harry. Thanks.”

  
Harry grabs Peter’s satchel out of his hand and throws it over his shoulder, tilting his head towards himself, “Hop on, Pete. I can take you down.”

  
Peter places a hand tight on the Slytherin’s shoulder and sits cautiously onto the back of the broom, careful not to glance down at the ground from the high height.

  
“Ready?”

  
Peter nods, and when he realises Harry can’t really see him, squeaks a yes in conformation.

  
Harry adjusts Peter’s arms to wrap around his waist and then shoots forward, forcing Peter to all but clutch onto him for dear life.  
Riding with Harry is nothing like riding with Wade. Wade glides smoothly through the air, taking deep care to be conscious of Peter’s extra weight at the back so as to maneuver his broom accordingly. Harry is rash and seems to be taking as many turns as possible in an attempt to make Peter fear for his body returning to the ground in one piece.

  
In the short amount of time that it takes them to reach the ground, it feels like an eternity has passed.

  
Peter gets off shakily and takes a deep breath, grabbing his satchel from Harry and thanking him before taking his leave. Glancing behind him a final time, Peter catches Wade staring back at him, dark, brown eyes as heavy as Peter’s heart feels.

  
***

  
Wade’s in a shitty mood.

  
Peter probably didn’t mean to set him off, but his intentions weren’t to get a happy reaction out of him either.

  
When break had ended, he sent a quick Howler to Vanessa to ask her to meet him after practice. He was upset and he sure as hell wouldn’t be weeping about his petty, heartbroken feelings to said cause of heartbreak.

  
Practice went fantabulously horrible after that. He was so distracted by their conversation that he was more concerned about deflecting the bludger _towards_ Osborn than he was actually stopping them from hitting any of his other teammates. After the third hit that he got at Harry, he got called out by their coach on the ground, telling him to pull his shit together or to get out of the game entirely.

  
Wade was careful to rally his anger in after that but was still deeply unsettled at the end of practice. Then, when Vanessa made sad, pity-filled eyes at him, he groaned and couldn’t help but be swallowed into a hug.

  
To make matters worse, after he’d sent Vanessa off he’d gotten ready to go pick up Peter from the tower like usual only to realise that Harry had gotten to him first and was now riding down with Peter tucked neatly against his back, shit-eating grin plastered across his stupid, smug face and beaming with victory.

  
Peter had walked off of the grounds, afterwards, without even a goodbye.

  
Yeah, Wade’s in a shitty mood.

  
So, when he walks into the Slytherin common room and hears howling laughter and wolf whistles coming from Harry Osborn’s pompous, overweening group of friends, he can’t help but want to start a fight.

  
He’s marching their way right then, when he catches onto the ending of their conversation.

  
“You should’ve seen him, boys! He was desperate, I tell you. That innocent act he keeps up will never hold up when I get him in bed, I just know it!”

Another round of ruckus laughter and snide remarks and Wade has had more than enough shit that he can deal with for the day.  
He pushes a fourth year aside, and snaps his wand out, jabbing the tail end of the Acacia against Harry’s chest, “Watch what you say, Osborn.”

  
Osborn goes cross-eyed staring down at the wand, and then chuckles, “Getting offended about the boyfriend, now are we?”

  
Wade growls, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  
“Well then I don’t see why there’s a problem here.”

  
“He’s my best friend.”

  
Harry laughs so loud, Wade feels the vibrations through his wand, “Why, Wilson. I thought you’d get the message after Peter told you he’d be coming to the game to see _me_.”

  
Wade frowns, grip on his wand faltering, “How do you know that?”

  
Harry takes a considerable step forward, forcing Wade to drop his stance and backup, “Or are you so _blinded_ by your love for him, that you can’t see his desire for another?”

  
The boys around him cackle like animals, voices chattering among themselves.

  
Wade gets backed up against a wall, Osborn’s wand pointed at _him_ now. Harry simpers at him, watching him like he’s a squirming lab rat, “Want to know what we did over that winter break, Wilson?”

  
Wade glares, spitting, “You didn’t kiss him, Osborn. Peter wouldn’t lie to me.”

  
Osborn raises an eyebrow, turning to face his friends, “Oh, look at the poor guy, boys.” He turns back around, “We didn’t kiss, Wilson. I would never do that unless Peter was _sober_ , of course. But, the wonders butterbeer can do to get someone loose and pliant for you, hm?”

  
Wade sees unspoken red in his vision, and then everything goes black.

  
***

  
If Peter could apparate over to the infirmary he would, but he can’t so he’s _running_.

  
It’s bad; he’s for sure hit at least four kids with his satchel by now and has probably sent two more to the infirmary themselves. He can’t help it though, when Weasel sent that urgent letter via Owl, Peter knew it was serious. Weasel never used formal ways of communications to talk to him.

  
And if Wade’s in the infirmary, there’s only one cause: Harry Osborn.

  
Peter runs faster thinking about it because when Wade’s hurt, Harry is for sure going to be in worse shape. Wade’s a menace if you get on his bad side.

  
He bursts through the infirmary doors, robes billowing behind him, and gets told off by Madam Pomfrey and several other students. He cares not though when he sees Wade in his bed.

  
“You got a _concussion_?!” Peter hisses at his sleeping friend, taking a seat at the side of his bed, “You bloody _idiot_.”

  
Peter sighs, running his hand carefully through Wade’s hair to get some strands out of his face, “When will you learn that this isn’t worth it?”

  
Wade’s eyes crack open slowly, and he croaks out something that Peter needs to lean in to hear, “What was that?”

  
“You’re always worth it.”

  
Peter pulls back, face scrunched in confusion, “What?”

  
Wade wheezes, shifting around until he’s more comfortable and then places a hand over Peter’s own resting on his chest. Peter blushes, but shakes his head, “No, I’m not Wade. I don’t even see how this is related to anything? You keep getting yourself into fights with Harry, and I can’t think of one good reason why-”

  
“He says stuff about you, and I punch him.”

  
Peter is shocked into silence. “W-what?”

  
“You mean so much more to me than you know, Peter.” Wade takes Peter’s hand with his other hand as well and then squeezes so hard, Peter has to lightly strangle himself out of Wade’s firm clamp.

  
And, then, Wade starts _crying_.

  
“Why don’t you love me, Petey? W-what have I ever done to warrant this form of torture? I stare from a-afar and yet never r-receive. Am I to be subjected to this pining hell FOREVER?!”

  
Peter stares in horror, “W-what?! Wade, what are you talking about?!”

  
Wade sobs, and then sniffles, and then wipes his hand across his face to wipe away snot, and then wipes it on his bedsheets, and okay _ew_.

  
Madam Pomfrey rushes over and rounds up Peter, sitting him down elsewhere, away from the hysterics Wade is currently screaming at him, “No! You can’t take him away you evil _fiend_! You shall face my wrap! I-i mean wrath! You could have some of my wrap too though but, I don’t really have a wrap right now… You shall still face my rat!”

  
Peter throws glances between Wade’s cot and the Madam, “Is he _alright_?”

  
Madam Pomfrey shakes her head, “Oh, I am so sorry you had to see that, dear. We used healing spells to take care of his injuries. Just minor ones, I assure you. But, the side effects, unfortunately, are taking hold much sooner than I thought they would. I wouldn’t have allowed you in otherwise.”

  
Peter nods, still looking at where Wade is now talking to himself about chimichangas. Dear God.

  
“When will he get better? Er, I mean, when can I come see him again?” Peter asks, voice as hopeful as ever.

  
Madam Pomfrey smiles fondly, “Perhaps after the Quidditch match tonight? You should go, try to take your mind off of him for some time.”

  
Peter nods, “Okay, I can do that.”

  
He most definitely can not do that, no.

  
***

  
Wade recalls only vague figments of his time under the healing spells. And, from what he’s hearing right now he’s not really sure if it’s a curse or blessing to have forgotten anything at all.

  
“Peter is, to be put frankly, an absolute mess.” Natalia says, as cool as she does mostly everything, “You need to fix this.”

  
Wade groans, “I don’t know _how_. I don’t even remember what I _did_. There could be an infinite number of things that Peter could be upset about and I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  
Steve frowns down at him like the resident Gryffindor that he is and Bucky and Sam are having an absolute field day on his ass right now.

  
Tony and Bruce decide to join the pity party with somber faces, “So, we found nothing. You’re screwed.” Tony says, taking a seat on Steve’s lap.

  
Thor grumbles, “I shall not stand by and let these idiots get away with their childish hide-and-seek games, anymore. I am bringing the puny Peter of Parker in right now. They shall talk it out like civilised adults, and then they shall kiss.”

  
He leaves, leaving everybody else to ponder in silent awe.

  
Clint waves a hand around, “Does anything need to be said about that, or is everyone on the same page?”

  
Wade feels the beginning inklings of another pounding headache coming onto him, “Why are all of you knumbskulls even here, oh my God!”

  
For the record, Wade should’ve prepared himself for the worst when Thor had first gotten involved. So he doesn’t really know why he’s surprised when Thor walks in, a squawking Peter slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and all but throws him onto Wade before shuffling the rest of the group out of the room and leaving them alone together.

  
Peter rights himself up and huffs and crosses his arms across his chest, ridiculous pout spreading across those plump lips unconsciously, “Wanna tell me why Thor just grabbed me from my dorm in Neanderthal fashion?”

  
Wade swallows, “If you’re wondering if I sent him, I didn’t.”

  
Peter does not look impressed.

  
“Right…” Wade pushes himself up so he’s more sitting than he is slumping against the wall, “Listen, Peter. Apparently, I said some things that I shouldn’t have said while I was under. Everyone was kind of vague about it, so I’m still not sure how I managed to offend you, but I am _so_ sorry. Just to be clear though-”

  
“Do you like me, Wade?”

  
“I’m sorry, what?”

  
Peter rolls his eyes, but Wade knows he’s nervous because he starts wringing his hands at the bottom of his sweater, “Do you like me?”

  
Wade narrows his eyes, “Of course I like you, Petey. You’re my best friend! Who told you-” Wade gasps, “Was it Osborn? I swear to God I’m going to wring his precious, pureblood neck-”

  
Peter shakes his head, scooting a foot up on the bed. Warmth from Peter’s leg now seeps into Wade’s thigh, “No, Wade. You told me.”  
“I did? Oh, yeah I guess I did. Right now…”

  
Peter shakes his head again, scooting in further, leaning in so that with a flip of a leg, Peter could practically straddle him. “No, Wade. You told me while you were under the healing spells.” Wade follows the Gryffindor’s tongue as it flicks out and traces a long line across his bottom lip. Peter’s mouth worries at the sensitive flesh with teeth until it turns a deep red and then lets it fall out gently, looking fresh and abused.

  
Wade’s so distracted by the movement that it takes him a moment to register that their faces are only inches apart. When did that happen? Not that Wade’s complaining or anything. Except that’s when what Peter’s just said also registers in his head and he pulls back so hard his head smacks against the wall behind him.

  
He emits a sound so pitiful, werewolves could hardly compare. Peter immediately scrambles off of him, “Oh my God, Wade! Should I call Madam Pomfrey over?”

  
Wade gasps, trying to gather his thoughts, “No, no. It’s okay. You’re good, Petey. Just cracked my skull, no need to worry.”  
Peter sighs fondly and reaches for Wade’s hand as he takes a seat beside his bedside, “You’re an idiot, you know that?”  
Wade nods, too tired for a snarky remark, “Idiot, yes. Agreed.”

  
Peter squeezes his hand in his, and then starts to trace patterns on Wade’s palm, “Vanessa told me what happened you know?”  
Wade looks over at him in question.

  
“About what happened with you and Harry today. She heard what Harry was saying about me…”

  
Anger bursts through him, but Wade reigns it in and instead intertwines their fingers, giving them a tight squeeze, “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Petey.”

  
Peter frowns, “All those times you picked fights with him and told me those stupid excuses. Were they...Was it because of me?”  
Wade nods silently, but then shakes his head, “I’d do it again, too.”

  
“Why?”

  
“Because you’re worth it, Peter. You’re always worth it.”

  
Peter laughs, “That’s what you said before too.”

  
Wade tilts his head in confusion.

  
“It’s nice to hear it when you’re not under the influence of powerful spells though.”

  
“Ohhh. So that’s what happened? Glad to hear that my first confession to you was when I was doped out on the wizard equivalent of codeine then. That’s always good to hear.”

  
“So you _do_ like me?” Peter confirms.

  
Wade shrugs, “Yeah, you’re alright.”

  
Peter rolls his eyes, “Be still my beating heart.”

  
And this time when Peter leans in, Wade does too and doesn't let go for a long time.

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave Kudos and comments below! Thanks for reading :)
> 
>  
> 
> Peter: Third Year Gryffindor  
> Wade: Sixth Year Slytherin  
> Harry: Fifth Year Slytherin  
> Vanessa: Seventh Year Slytherin  
> Steve: Seventh Year Gryffindor  
> Sam: Fifth Year Hufflepuff  
> Bucky: Fifth Year Hufflepuff  
> Tony: Seventh Year Ravenclaw  
> Bruce: Seventh Year Ravenclaw  
> Thor: Sixth Year Gryffindor


End file.
